AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Greer
Stop being so fucking dramatic, Greer.
The sounds from the attic had started almost immediately after Wade left. Like, within an hour. As I ate dinner standing at the kitchen counter—okay, it was a banana, but I was too upset to eat anything else—I thought I heard the vibrations of someone moving on the metal staircase in the butler’s pantry.
Someone was upstairs. The attic ghost was back. Trying to scare me.
I knew I was supposed to run out of the house, or at least in the other direction, but where would I go? What would I do? I still owned this house, I’d gone through hell in it, and while my mind objectively understood the danger I was in, my body didn’t care. I wasn’t afraid anymore. Maybe it was the calming effects of the Xanax, but as I started toward the bottom of the staircase, flinging open the door to the pantry with enthusiasm, I welcomed the confrontation. I was ready to meet this motherfucker—homeless man, vampire, apparition, Garbage the Goose…whoever had been living in my attic and stealing my unmentionables was about to come face-to-face with their worst nightmare, not the other way around.
“I am the nightmare,” I said clearly, quietly, as I looked up and saw the staircase empty. I rattled my way to the top to peer into the depths of the third floor, only to see nothing.
So, it was a ghost then. Fine by me.
I spent a sleepless night pacing my room—my first night alone at Richmond House since what I’d come to think of as “the Great Scaffolding Debacle,” but not the first night I’d ever spent here alone. And not the last night, I was sure. The noises had continued, but neither the front nor back door had sounded the alarm. No one had come in. Whoever was here either knew other ways of getting into the house, or they’d been here the whole time. Hiding. Watching. Neither thought was comforting.
I watched the sun rise on Halloween, my lack of sleep playing tricks with my mind, filling me with a witchy sense of dread. Finally, with the rising sun, I was able to sleep for a few hours, and when I woke up, I felt better. There had to be a rational explanation for the noises. I should probably get someone to come out and check for critters. Check the pipes. Check something.
Today was Halloween. I was going to dress up. I was going to try to find some semblance of joy.
I’d just plugged in my new coffee maker—a gift to myself after I’d spotted its sunny bright-yellow exterior at a secondhand shop in town—when a forceful knock at the back door startled me. Midmorning trick-or-treaters? At Richmond House? But why would they come to the back door? Eugenia had a key. She wouldn’t be knocking.
Berating myself for forgetting to buy candy, I angled the door out of the jamb and pulled it back—bracing myself for the she-devil screech—only to find Jace and Oren standing on the steps. Splotches of heat bloomed on my cheeks and down my chest as Jace’s eyes moved over me. Hot. Unyielding. Looking over the costume I’d insisted on putting together for the occasion. It wasn’t the swimsuit from my Mardi Gras Halloween—that red piece of nylon was long-lost—but a preppy, yellow plaid skirt. Cher’s skirt, from Clueless. And it felt just a hair too short under Jace’s scrutinizing gaze.
“Nice outfit,” he said, smiling gently to soften his words. As if he hadn’t managed to shatter my entire world this past week.
“What are you doing here?” Despite the rudeness of my words, they floated out softer than I would have liked.
Jace nodded to Oren who looked…panicked. Like he was about to jump out of his own skin.
“Oren has something he needs to tell you. Right now.”
Great. Just what I needed. Another crisis to deal with.
I stepped back and let them in. Oren looked at me as he passed with sorrow-filled eyes. Whatever it was, it was bad.
“Maybe in the parlor?” I suggested as the three of us found ourselves clustered in the hall outside the dining room and kitchen.
Taking the hint, Jace strode down the main hall with Oren practically running to keep up. Whatever it was he had to tell me, Oren didn’t want to let Jace out of his sight. I found that I didn’t either.
The men entered the parlor, but neither sat, instead standing side by side—Jace’s presence calm and controlled, Oren’s sweaty and shifty.
“What is it, Oren?” I asked impatiently this time. I didn’t need any more bad news, didn’t need anything more to jumble up my mind. Sheryll’s visit had willed me to confront some uncomfortable truths about Jace and myself, and now that he was standing here in front of me, now that he’d come to me—whatever the circumstance—I found myself eager to be alone with him. “If this is about Anna, I don’t care. She can have the house. I just need some more time to make sure there’s nothing else for me here. Nothing that could lead me to my father’s identity.”
Oren made a choking sound that sounded distinctly frog-like, as if he’d swallowed his own tongue. Whatever it was, it had to be pretty bad. I’d never seen him act like this.
“Go ahead, Oren,” Jace said. “Remember what I told you.”
Oren sank to the chaise a few feet away, head in hands.
“Greer. My darling Greer.” He raised his head. “What I’m about to tell you will come as a shock…”
Spiked with adrenaline, my body took on a familiar vibration, the urge to tap my shaking hands almost unbearable. Instead, I counted in my head. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. This wasn’t actually happening.
“Get on with it. You’re scaring her.” Jace’s voice pierced the silence, bringing me back down to earth. Knowing that Jace already knew what Oren was about to tell me, that he wanted me to know, was grounding. He obviously thought it was a big enough deal to come with Oren to tell me, but he made no move to comfort me.
“Okay,” Oren tried again, exhaling a shaky breath. “When you first came to Richmond House all those years ago, you were searching for your father’s identity.”
“Yes,” I said, heart pounding painfully in my chest. Oh, God, not again. I didn’t want to faint again in front of Jace. “Yes, I was. Did…did you find out who he is?”
